


The Sweetest Heist

by bioticsandheadshots



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Maple Syrup, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, FPAQ, Kai Leng/Female Shepard mention, Mass Effect Big Bang, Mass Effect Big Bang 2017, Sexual Tension, this fic is about ½ crackfic and ½ mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-03 20:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12154503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticsandheadshots/pseuds/bioticsandheadshots
Summary: When CSIS spy, Kaidan Alenko, is charged with foiling an assassination attempt on Canadian Prime Minister Donnel Udina, he uncovers more than he bargained for and teams up with a headstrong RCMP investigator to get to the bottom of a syrup heist turned deadly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since joining the fandom last year, I wanted to participate in the MEBB but I hadn't even finished the games yet at last year's event. So when this year rolled around, I really wanted to do it. Except the idea I had was too grand to complete in time. What I present to you now started as a combination of about ¼ random prompt generator, ¼ random sentence starter, and ½ just joking around with [canardroublard](http://archiveofourown.org/users/canardroublard/pseuds/canardroublard) (who was also my wonderful beta) and it developed into a semi-serious but completely fun story that I had a blast writing.
> 
> The lovely art and banner is by [JadeRaven](http://jaderavenarts.tumblr.com). Check out the full size art [here](http://jaderavenarts.tumblr.com/post/165799968150/based-on-a-scene-from-the-sweetest-heist-an). Also, a special shoutout to [SunshineIta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineIta/pseuds/SunshineIta) who graciously agreed to double check the French.

Samantha ran a hand along her skirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles. As private aide to the prime minister himself, she was expected to always look the consummate professional. Steam rose from the cup of coffee in her other hand, sweetened with the exact proportion of creamer that Mr. Udina liked.

“What is it you expect me to do about it?”

Her hand froze on the doorknob. The prime minister was famed for his tempers and the raised voice on the other side of the door indicated today would be ripe with his dissatisfaction. _Go in and disturb the phone call, or wait and let his coffee get cold_? In any normal circumstance, it shouldn’t be a complicated decision.

“An assassin? That’s preposterous!” Udina’s voice floated through the thick wood of the door and Samantha found herself leaning closer. After a pause, he continued. “There’s no need for that. Send me the files—”

Waving with a chipper grin, another aide passed Samantha in the hall. “Good morning, Ms. Traynor!”

No way the thick wood of the door would have completely muffled the aide’s greeting, no matter how loud the ambassador talked, so Samantha pushed open the door with a smile. Udina turned and glowered at her, waving her in with an impatient hand. As she clicked the door closed behind her, he swiveled his chair around and hunched over his phone, whispering a few terse words before placing the handset back in the receiver.

“Did you take the long way round the building, Ms. Traynor?” He sneered into his coffee, but waved her away when she moved to take it back. “Never mind. It will do. Get Director Hackett from CSIS on the line. We have a situation.”

* * *

 

CSIS agent Kaidan Alenko watched his prey with ease from the small, corner table where he sat nursing a whiskey. Early afternoon meant the hotel bar was far from full, leaving him an unobstructed view of the slender redhead. Though an identical match to the photograph included in the dossier he’d received, this woman looked like no assassin he’d ever seen.

Kaidan again questioned the accuracy of the agency’s intelligence. An assassination attempt, on the prime minister…of Canada? It was almost laughable. Sure, Udina was far from the most popular political official (or popular at all, in fact) but it’d been over twenty years since the first, and only, assassination attempt against a prime minister. That instance had barely even been a footnote in history. Assassinations of elected officials happened in other countries, not Canada.

Still, Director Hackett’s orders were clear: locate and dispatch the target before she carried out her plan.

A glance at his watch showed just over an hour until the Prime Minister’s press conference. Yet his would-be assassin seemed in no hurry to leave the comfort of the leather stool she perched upon. Long legs, crossed at the ankles, were still and her elbows rested on the dark wood of the counter, entirely at ease as she carried on an animated conversation with the scruffy bartender. She was the perfect picture of someone with no urgent plans—especially plans to murder a high profile elected official— having a drink with a friend. Kaidan reminded himself once again that looks could be deceiving.

Kaidan couldn’t _eliminate_ her in the middle of a public bar. With only a few blocks between the hotel and the press conference site, there would be little opportunity to abscond with her on the busy streets of Québec City. He swallowed the last sip of his drink and prepared to get creative.

Glass in hand, Kaidan made his way towards the bar, picking up snippets of the conversation as he neared the pair.

“Some woman was in here looking for you. Hot, like _really_ hot. Accent that gets all my attention _down under_ , if you know what I’m saying.” White cloth in hand making sure swipes across the counter, the bartender winked at the redhead. “Please tell me she’s your friend. And that you can put in a good word for me.”

“What I can tell you is that if Miranda heard you say that, she’d kick your ass.”

The man laughed. “I dunno, could be fun.”

Kaidan settled himself onto a stool, leaving one empty seat between himself and his target, and signaled for another drink.

The bartender ignored him and leaned closer to the woman. “If you’re jealous, that three-way is still on my bucket list.”

She made a choking sound of disgust, though one corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile. “You pig.”

“You love me.”

“Wrong. I _tolerate_ you because, every so often, you happen to be useful. Even if you always charge me full price for drinks.”

Kaidan frowned into his empty glass. Could the director’s intel be wrong? This woman, with her witty banter and sarcastic smile, was so far removed from any assassin he’d dealt with in the past that Kaidan couldn’t help but doubt his orders.

One by one, he lined up the facts in his head to flip through, again. He was a spy, not a hitman. While his job did occasionally include killing targets when necessary, Agent Alenko never did anything half-cocked or without all the facts. It’s why he was one of the best. He’d be damned sure that this woman was the _right_ woman before he ever pulled that trigger.

The dossier Kaidan had received was thick with black chunks of redacted information. Even her name was classified; not that it mattered since it wasn’t like he could waltz up and ask if she was so-and-so anyway. What he _did_ know was that she was prior military; special forces with a long string of top secret missions—all redacted, of course—under her belt. She’d been discharged after nearly a decade of service though the reason was, again, redacted.

Still, based on the scant information left uncensored in her file, everything checked out. From the visual match down to the details of where he could find her, Kaidan had no reason to deny that this woman _was_ his target, no matter the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whatever special forces training she’d received would make her a highly dangerous target; one not to be underestimated. He needed to lower her guard, somehow, so he could get her alone. Off the top of his head, he had two options and option A always made him feel dirty. _B, then._

As if just noticing he had a second paying customer, the bartender took the few steps needed towards Kaidan and plucked his empty glass from the counter. “Another?”

Kaidan nodded, adding a grateful smile when the amber liquid sloshed into the tumbler. After a sip, he tossed a bill on the counter and staggered to his feet. The leather of his shoes tangled around the barstool’s wooden legs and he lurched forward. Catching himself with his free hand against the slick counter, Kaidan avoided a head injury and succeed in splashing the entire contents of his drink down the front of the would-be assassin’s shirt.

The woman surged to her feet, droplets of whiskey slicking down pale, freckled skin. This close, Kaidan could see the green of her eyes and the anger that flashed in them. “ _Osti de cave!_ ”

Though fluent in French, Kaidan’s knowledge of the language didn’t extend far beyond a formal education. While he couldn’t translate her phrase exactly, he knew, without a doubt, he’d just been insulted.

Slurring his words, Kaidan reached for the woman with the tiny napkin his drink had been sitting on and dabbed at her soaked blouse. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t touch me!” She knocked his hand away and cursed in French again, stringing together an even longer phrase than the first one.

Kaidan covered his face with both hands and made sobbing noises into his palms.

“No, no…please, sir. Please don’t cry.” Exasperation colored her voice as the woman patted one of his shoulders with tentative caution while she tried to soothe him. 

“I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!” Kaidan clutched tighter at his face, hunching his shoulders as they shook with faux tears. The more he apologized, the more his words slurred until they became a blubbering, incoherent mess.

“It’s okay. How about I get you a taxi home? Can you tell me where you live?”

He wailed even louder, dropping into one of the stools. “There’s no home to go to.”

A peek through his fingers revealed the wide eyed look she shared with the bartender who just shrugged in response.

“You…you’re homeless?” she asked.

He sniffled and swiped the back of his hands across his eyes before responding. “Here on business.”

“Oh,” she nodded with understanding. “That’s not so bad. Let’s get you back to…where are you staying?”

Turning wet eyes up to look at her, Kaidan sniffled again. “Upstairs.”

She nodded again and turned to the bartender. “Wanna help me out here, Jeff?”

Kaidan tried not to panic. The whole point of this charade was to get her alone. If the bartender came to her rescue or called someone else on staff to escort him upstairs, this entire plan would be a bust. So he improvised.

“You’re still mad!” He clutched at her arm, bursting into tears yet again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Looks like you made a friend,” Jeff snorted.

The woman shot the bartender a scathing glare and tried to pry Kaidan’s fingers from around her arm.

“What?” Jeff shrugged again and tapped the side of one thigh. “You know I can’t carry his ass.”

“Jesus, fine!” She turned her attention back to Kaidan. “What room?”

He answered, giving her his room number as she lifted one of his arms around her shoulder and hefted him to his feet. The two of them moved in slow, stuttering steps toward the elevator. The clock in the lobby revealed only ten minutes to the press conference. The woman’s assistance, though given with disgruntled consent, had been easy to obtain given the narrow time frame she’d have to gain access to the prime minister. _Too easy,_ Kaidan thought as the doors of the elevator dinged open.

She shuffled Kaidan into the spacious elevator decked in gleaming gold accents and hardwood paneling. She propped him in a corner, making sure to keep one hand on his shoulder in order to prevent him from sliding sideways (not that she really needed to, but he appreciated that his ruse was convincing) and turned to press the button for the fourth floor. As the doors began to slide together, a group of four hurried across the lobby. The older woman stretched out her hand, halting the door just before the panels slid together, and the family pressed into the space with them.

No one made small talk as the elevator began its slow ascent. For such a posh establishment, one would think the elevators would move a little faster. The light above the doors blinked as they passed floors two and three, and then held steady on four.

The woman reached for him, shifting his arm over her shoulders when the elevator doors opened. The family averted their eyes; the parents shared knowing looks of disapproval while the teens focused on their cell phones as the sloppy drunk was carted out of the elevator. Kaidan paid them no mind. The less attention he received, the better. The bartender could already be problematic if Kaidan wasn’t careful with how he proceeded.

A hand shook him and Kaidan realized they’d stopped outside room 411.

“Huh?” He looked up to the woman holding him upright. She watched him with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

A deep sigh escaped through her nostrils. “Your key. Do you have it?”

“Oh.” He rifled through his pockets for the plastic key card.

She said nothing further to him as he handed over the small rectangle of plastic. With a quiet click, she fit the key into the slot and the light turned green. The door thudded softly against the back wall when her elbow pushed it open and she carried him the last few steps through the open room, depositing him atop the king sized mattress with a gentleness that surprised him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to push down the guilt that bubbled in his gut. It was just a job.

She grunted an acknowledgment and turned back toward the door. Careful to keep his movements slow so as not to draw her attention, Kaidan reached for the pistol secured at the small of his back. The suppressor affixed to the end of the barrel assured the shots would be muffled, just tiny puffs of air that wouldn’t even carry into the hallway. He’d be long gone before housekeeping discovered the body come morning. Job done, Prime Minister Udina would be safe.

Just as the sleek barrel rose in his hand, the woman froze in place, staring towards the corner opposite the door, her back still to him. He followed her gaze to the desk. The same desk onto which, only a few hours prior, Kaidan had carelessly tossed an open file.

CSIS still relied on the old-fashioned exchange of information, paper files delivered hand-to-hand. The mandate came from Director Hackett himself. “More secure, less chances of digital hacks,” he’d respond, whenever questioned. Despite the ubiquity of computerized records, Hackett refused to let CSIS make the switch to digital.

_Digital would have been good right about now._ Kaidan groaned silently at the very recognizable picture of the woman that sat atop the stack of loose papers.

From the moment he realized what had caught her eye and the dawning comprehension of his error had taken a single second. Maybe two.

Two seconds too long.

Everything after that happened in the blink of an eye. The woman’s hand went to her waist and, as she spun, the room filled with the metallic click of a pistol slide. Kaidan stared down the barrel of a gun, the dark tunnel far too close to his face for comfort. If she registered his gun pointing back at her, she gave no indication of it; not a flinch, not even a flicker of her eyes down towards the smooth cylinder of his suppressor.

Her eyes were cold, mouth set in a hard line before she opened it to speak.

“Who the fuck are you?”


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

“Drop your gun, nice and slow.”

Kaidan cocked his head at the woman, eyebrows knitting together in a scowl. “And why would I do that?”

The fingers of her right hand unfurled from the base of her pistol; the left kept it steadily pointed in his direction. She moved with slow, deliberate movements as her hand fell to her waist, thumbing at the button of her blazer before she nudged the fabric aside. Gold gleamed at him from her belt, a shape that Kaidan recognized instinctively. The barrel of his gun tipped toward the floor.

“You’re a cop?” He stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Obviously,” she answered, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. “Now answer me. Who. The fuck. Are you?”

Of all the ways this mission could have gone, this wasn’t one Kaidan had prepared for. Self-recrimination flooded his thoughts. He _should_ have noticed the badge or at least the shape of a sidearm at her hip, _should_ have paid more attention. _Should_ have trusted his instincts more. Now he was at the mercy of an RCMP officer on whom he’d just pulled a gun.

His eyes darted towards the door, wondering if he could escape, wondering whether she would shoot him or hesitate. One look in her green eyes made it clear that she would _not_ hesitate should he make any sudden moves. A steady exhale escaped through his pursed lips as Kaidan closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds. He’d have to take his chances.

“I better not regret this,” he muttered and tossed the gun on the bed. Both his hands raised in the air.

A smirk passed over her lips before her face settled back in its angry expression. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”

Kaidan still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the turn of events. “You’re not an assassin?”

“What?” Her mouth dropped slightly and she stared at him in utter confusion before she burst into laughter. Eyes that sparkled with amusement darted around the room as she looked for something. “You’re kidding, right? Williams, you can stop fucking around. Joke’s over!”

With a sigh, Kaidan ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s not a joke. Here.”

Ignoring the sweep of the gun that followed him, Kaidan crossed the room to the desk in three swift strides. Papers rustled as he shuffled them together and passed the whole file over to her, adding his CSIS badge to the top. It went against his training to share intel with a target, but nothing about this case added up. Back and forth, her eyes went from his face back to the sheaf of papers before snatching them from his outstretched hands.

His hands stayed raised as she rifled through the documents. It took her only a few minutes to comb over the data. When she was done, she glanced over the papers with a scowl.

“What the hell is this?”

“You tell me,” Kaidan answered. “Someone—”

Buzzing from her pocket interrupted him. She signaled for him to stay quiet and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Shepard. Uh, huh…Uh, huh…Shit. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She surveyed him with narrow eyes as she returned the phone back to her pocket. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

“Agent Alenko,” he said, extending his hand. “You can call me Kaidan.”

“So. You’re a spy.” Her tone made clear it wasn’t a question.

His hand dropped back to his side, untouched. “I doubt that should be the point of focus here. Someone went to a lot of trouble to frame you for this.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t have the time to deal with spook shit.” With a click, her gun slid back in its holster. She tucked it out of sight behind her blazer, pivoted on her heel and made for the hallway. “I’ve got an actual investigation to conduct. See ya around, Alenko.”

“Wait,” he called, hurrying to catch her at the door. “I’m coming with you.”

She whirled around, arms crossing over her chest as she snarled at him. “Like hell you are.”

“Shepard,” he tested the name on his lips, not sure what title to put before it. “There’s someone out there who wants you dead. Someone that had access to just enough government information to make the intel look legit. You’re not safe.”

“And? I’m not some damsel in distress that needs rescuing. I stopped you, didn’t I?”

His jaw ticked, fingers clenching at her insinuation. “Because I do things right, not fast,” he snapped. “It may not always be pretty, but I do my job with integrity instead of following orders blindly. No guarantee the next person will be quite as thorough.” His voice dropped as he contemplated a scenario wherein he’d succeeded and had an innocent person’s blood on his hands. “This isn’t just about you. This is personal.”

Shepard pressed her lips together and watched him before she let out a harsh, resigned sigh. “Fine.”

She didn’t wait for him, just stalked down the hall and jabbed the button for the elevator. Hastily, he shoved the contents of the file back in the envelope and stuffed it, along with his badge and gun, back under cover of his jacket. He caught up with her just as the elevator doors opened with a ding.

Clutching the handle of the car door as they sped across town in her unmarked cruiser, Kaidan regretted coming with her. Shepard had to be the worst driver he’d ever been in a car with. She wove in and out of traffic, her bumper millimeters away from clipping the car in front of her as she changed lanes. He didn’t think she even knew what a turn signal was and if she took corners at any higher speeds her car might tilt on two wheels. They didn’t talk as they sped down the highway, not that Kaidan could have carried on a conversation with his stomach in his throat anyhow.

In a small, nowhere town a short distance from the city, Shepard slowed at a narrow, dirt road lined with trees. Even if Kaidan hadn’t spoken any French, the red octagon on the small sign out front clearly indicated that trespassers were not welcome. Shepard paid the sign no mind, racing down the drive with far more speed than Kaidan thought necessary, kicking up dirt and dust with her tires. A trio of warehouses stretched in front of them at the end of the drive. Trees surrounded the property on all sides, hiding it from view should any of the residents of the sleepy town get nosy. Shadows dappled and danced across the metal roofs in the late evening sun.

With a slam of her door, Shepard was out and storming toward the entrance, sparing no glance back at the unwanted passenger who kept pace at her heels. Stretched taut across one of the door frames, yellow crime scene tape cordoned off the left building. Shepard slowed only long enough to take direction from the cop on duty, then ducked under. The young officer, one push up away from busting out of his uniform, held up a hand to pause Kaidan in his tracks.

“I’m with her,” Kaidan said, nodding at Shepard’s fading back.

“Sorry, sir. You’re not authorized.”

Shepard grew smaller as she passed row after row of large, metal drums. Kaidan closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want him there. He could pull his CSIS badge and force his way through, but until he had a better idea of what was going on it made more sense to lay low. Maybe he should go back to the car; he could sit and wait out of the biting wind. It would certainly be more comfortable.

As soon as he’d made up his mind to do just that, she stopped in her tracks. She turned slowly, as if realizing that he was no longer at her side. Though he couldn’t hear her groan, he could certainly see it. Still, she called out, her voice carrying over the whistling wind outside. “Let him through, Vega. He’s with me.”

Kaidan shared an apologetic smile with the officer and ducked under the tape, hurrying to catch up with Shepard. He’d known her for barely an hour and chasing after her was already becoming a habit.

Sleek, white drums lined both sides of the aisle, stretching as far as Kaidan could see. The barrels had been stacked in neat pyramids, each drum placed evenly between the lower two to achieve maximum balance and support. The tallest of the columns rose six barrels high, nearly three times Kaidan’s own height. A faint hint of something familiar—something sweet—clung to the air, but he didn’t have time to stop and ponder it as he followed Shepard through the stark maze.

The two of them continued, Shepard periodically making turns among the rows without hesitation. Despite the sheer size of the building, it didn’t take long before they caught sight of activity centered around a small lump on the floor. As they got closer, Kaidan realized the lump was the body of a young woman. Crouched beside the corpse, the medical examiner—judging by the bag at her feet—examined a deep slash across the woman’s throat. Standing to the side was a local cop in uniform and a lean man in casual jeans with an RCMP badge peeking from an open leather jacket. They conversed in quiet tones as the doctor worked.

“Shepard.” Surprise written on his face, the plainclothes officer looked up as the two of them approached the body. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“You know this is my case, Leng. What are you doing here?” Shepard snapped at him.

“Despite the location, this could be complete coincidence. So it’s not your case…yet. Besides,” he added with a provocative wink, “you don’t seem to mind the help of a talented hand on occasion.”

“Leng…”Shepard flashed a warning glance at him, but he paid her no notice.

“And let’s not forget the way I can ease tensions with my silver tongue.”

“Damn it, Leng,” Shepard hissed and grabbed the man by the arm, pulling him a few short steps from everyone else. The doctor continued her examination of the corpse, paying no mind to the two arguing detectives, and the local cop cleared his throat, eyes flitting around the scene as he tried to find something suitable on which to focus his attention. Kaidan rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as Shepard’s words were amplified in the large space, echoing crystal clear back to their group. “We agreed never to discuss our personal life at work.”

“What’s the matter, Shepard?” Leng leaned against the wall and crossed one ankle over the other, tucking an errant strand of long, black hair back behind his ear. Kaidan’s eyes dropped to the top of his shoes as he tried to ignore the arrogant, snide smile itching to be slapped from Leng’s face. “Don’t want people to know you’re screwing a colleague?”

Arms crossed over her chest, Shepard rolled her eyes with a sarcastic snort. “Actually, it’s just you. I can think of quite a few people I wouldn’t mind bragging about screwing, but you’re not on that list.”

Leng’s face clouded with anger. His hand shot out and snatched her arm, jerking her toward him. “But it’s still my bed you come crawling to, isn’t it Janie?” he hissed at her, contempt coloring every bitter word.

Kaidan’s jaw tightened. Across from him, the uniformed cop balled his hands into tight fists.

Before anyone could make a move to pull him from her, Shepard wrenched her arm free. “One of these days, Leng, I’ll hate you more than I like an easy lay.” She glowered at him, then turned back towards the crime scene. “We’ve got work to do.”

At that moment, Leng seemed to notice Kaidan for the first time. “Who’s the pretty boy?” he asked Shepard, not bothering to address Kaidan directly.

In his business suit and with his curls tamed by gel, maybe Kaidan was a pretty boy compared to Leng’s man bun and faded jeans, but still he frowned at the description. Shepard answered, sparing Kaidan the need for feigned politeness.

“Oh, him? Rookie from the academy. He gets to be my shadow for a single day.” Shepard’s eyes flicked up to his. Kaidan caught the meaning behind her words. After today, she was done with this temporary partnership.

Leng’s eyes narrowed and a vicious smile crept over his lips. “Aren’t you a little old for a rookie?”

Kaidan ignored him. Hostility radiated off Leng in waves as he closed the distance Shepard had put between them, resting his hand on her lower back and glaring at Kaidan with a possessive gleam in his eye. Shepard shrugged him off with a frustrated grunt and turned to the local cop.

“Hey, Vakarian.” Shepard craned her neck to flash a smile at the cop towering over her. “Given any more thought to that mentorship we discussed?”

Leng’s hostility toward Kaidan was nothing compared to the icy stare he fixed on the man currently at the receiving end of Shepard’s attention.

A flush crept over Vakarian’s face until only bright blue eyes remained amid the sea of red. “Um, can it wait a bit? We’re in the middle of…” He let his sentence trail off and stared pointedly towards the corpse at their feet.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Shepard said with a smirk and dropped to a crouch beside the doctor, turning serious as she surveyed the body. “What have we got?”

The medical examiner spoke first. “Slit throat. Surprisingly, there are no signs of a struggle. Judging by lividity and lack of rigor mortis, she’s been dead less than three hours. Arterial spray on the barrels,” she continued, indicating the crimson splashes that stood starkly against the white metal drums, “suggests that the body hasn’t been moved.”

“Inside job,” Leng said with a firm nod. “Must have been someone she worked with to get so close.”

Shepard shot the rival cop a withering glance. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” She turned back to Vakarian. “Who was she?”

Vakarian’s unease evaporated with Shepard’s attention focused on the case rather than himself. He spoke with the authority of a man who knew his job, confident in his findings. “Maya Brooks, worked here for the last two years. Model employee, always on time, never called out. No one knows much about her though, seems she kept to herself.”

Leng snorted and picked at one of his nails. “Maybe you should look a little harder. _Someone_ obviously knew her well enough to want her dead.”

Everyone ignored him.

“Any witnesses?” Shepard asked Vakarian. “This place has been on strict lockdown since the first empty barrel was discovered.”

Vakarian groaned. “No. _She_ won’t talk to anyone. Said it had to be you, or no one. Locked herself in her office, refuses to open the door.”

Shepard sighed. Kaidan had no idea who _she_ was, but judging by the annoyed look on Shepard’s face, this was not the first time _she_ was being difficult.

“Alright, I’ll head up and talk with her.” She turned towards Kaidan. “I don’t suppose you’ll stay here while I go over to the office?” She glanced over at Leng who was still shooting angry glares in Kaidan’s direction. “On second thought, just come with me.”

Shepard wove her way through the maze of barrels, ducking under the tape back into the biting wind. The two of them continued along the dirt path to the main office in silence, leaves crunching underfoot as they went. Kaidan didn’t know the particulars of the case and Shepard didn’t seem keen to share them. Still, the uneasy feeling from earlier churned in the pit of Kaidan’s stomach.

When they reached the small office, Shepard paused at the door to take a deep breath. “As if stolen syrup wasn’t bad enough,” she muttered, “now people are being murdered for it.”

“Don’t you think it’s…wait. Did you just say stolen syrup?” His mouth dropped slightly as he stared at her, a dumbfounded expression settling over his features.

“Oh, look. The ‘what-the-fuck’ face.” She smirked at him. “But yes. Stolen syrup. It’s a thing.” She sighed. “And now it’s gotten a lot more complicated.”

Kaidan ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s my point, Shepard. Don’t you think it’s a weird coincidence that someone wanted you dead and now someone on your case has been murdered?”

“I’m a cop,” Shepard replied with a dry hint of annoyance. “Murder is kinda my thing.”


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard rapped her knuckles against the door. When there was no response, she twisted at the handle, cursing when she found it was, indeed, locked. She rapped again, louder this time and continued until the door was jerked away from her raised fist. A tall woman glared out, surveying the two of them with annoyed disdain before gesturing them inside.

As they let the door close behind them, the woman brushed past and settled herself onto a plush sofa, stretching her arms across the back. Leather squeaked as she crossed one leg over the other. Kaidan was sure he’d never seen a leather pantsuit before but, somehow, this woman made it look natural.

Narrowed blue eyes looked him up and down, like he was an insect being judged on whether it was worth squishing or insignificant enough to ignore. “C'est qui lui?” she asked Shepard.

“My…partner, Kaidan Alenko.” Using English, Shepard introduced him with a hint of resignation and then gestured to the woman. “Kaidan, this is Aria Telloque, president of the Federation of Québec Maple Syrup Producers.”

Kaidan’s eyes widened. “You run FPAQ?”

Aria chuckled dryly, a lopsided sneer tugging at one corner of her lips. “I _am_ FPAQ.”

“Here we go.” Shepard said, rolling her eyes with a sigh.

“The market’s a fickle bitch. Without me, thousands of farmers would go bankrupt. Without me—”

“Aria,” Shepard cut her off with a raised hand, “we’re not here to learn about the queen of the syrup industry. I need you to answer some questions. Think you can do that from atop your high horse?”

“Depends on the questions.”

Shepard dropped into the arm chair next to the couch. Crossing an ankle over her knee, she leaned forward. “Don’t fuck around and make me haul your ass to the station.”

“I’m the one that should be asking the questions.” A muscle in her jaw twitched as Aria turned her face towards Shepard. “Nearly half a million _gallons_ of syrup are missing and you haven’t found a single barrel?”

“You’ve got a dead employee out there, Aria, and you’re worried about syrup?”

“It’s mine, Shepard. I want it back.”

Kaidan stayed quiet as Shepard ran through a list of questions regarding the victim lying dead on the warehouse floor; who she was, what Aria knew about her, if she’d had any trouble at work. Aria added nothing of value to Officer Vakarian’s information. As annoying as it was to consider, perhaps Leng was right and Maya’s death _was_ just a horrible coincidence.

“Where were you earlier today,” Shepard paused to glance down at her wristwatch, “between the hours of one and four?”

Aria dropped her chin and stared at Shepard with narrowed eyes. “I was on a conference call for the better part of the day with the managers of my other three warehouses; Darner Vosque, Jona Sederis, and Gryll LaRoche. I am taking every precaution that _no one_ steals from me again. I’ll have Anto get you their numbers as I’m sure you’ll want to follow up.

“Oh, one more thing,” Aria added, rising from her chair. She crossed the room to her desk and pulled a single piece of paper from one of the document trays stacked on the corner. “Two days ago, Maya submitted formal resignation papers.”

“That can’t be a coincidence,” Kaidan snorted, ignoring Aria’s glare of disapproval at his outburst.

Shepard looked over at him sharply before turning her eyes back down to the paper Aria had handed over. “I agree.”

“You can keep that copy.” The heels of Aria’s boots clicked across the tiles, the sound fading as she came to a stop at the door. Icy air whipped into the room as she pulled open the door but Aria remained still, seemingly unaffected by the cold as she waited for them to leave. “Cameras cover every square inch of my warehouses. Your forensic analyst, Ms. Lawson I believe, has already been granted access to the footage.”

“What about—”

“I think we’re done here,” Aria cut Shepard off, her stolid tone making clear she had nothing further to add. She watched the pair of them with an arched brow until Shepard huffed and stalked out the door.

Shepard said nothing as she marched back to the warehouse, stopping to converse in low tones with Vega. She gestured for Kaidan to wait, ducking under the tape and disappearing into the belly of the building. He rocked on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets to ward off the chill, and hoped she wouldn’t be gone long enough that he’d have to make small talk. Luckily, she returned a moment later with a file tucked under her arm and made a beeline for her car.

“Aria wasn’t very helpful,” Kaidan observed, trailing close behind her.

She sighed, sliding into the driver’s seat. “She never is.”

With a spin of her tires kicking up dirt, Shepard punched the accelerator and they rushed back down the drive. She didn’t even brake as they came to the highway, only letting her foot off the gas enough to slow down marginally before whipping the car to the left to head back to the city. An incoming truck blared its horn, but Shepard paid the driver no mind as she zipped past trees and farmlands, quickly leaving the truck behind.

The ride back into the city was just as harrowing as the ride out to the warehouse. The only thing that made the scenario better was that, at least out in the country, they were the only car on the road at the moment. Once they made it back to the city proper, Kaidan would have to worry once again about smashing into other cars as well. Had anyone else been driving, the ride might have been pleasant. The road meandered alongside trees and fields, the setting sun behind them casting a golden glow over everything. Instead, Kaidan just clung to the bar and hoped he’d make it back to his hotel room alive.

“Shepard,” Kaidan’s voice was tinged with caution as he called her attention to the curve up ahead. “Shepard, slow down!” He shouted now, as she continued to barrel forward.

“I’m trying!” She snapped back at him.

He looked down and could see her foot pumping at the brakes. Even as she practically stood on the pedal, foot slammed all the way to the floorboards, the car refused to slow.

“ _Tabarnak!_ ” Shepard shouted, her eyes going wide as she jerked her gaze to him. “Hold on!”

With one hand maintaining control of the wheel, Shepard downshifted and engaged the emergency brake. Squealing and the smell of burnt rubber filled the cabin of the vehicle as the car began to slide across asphalt. With another curse, Shepard released the brake, letting the tires gain traction again, before attempting the e-brake at a slower pull the second time. They slowed, but still hit the curve too fast and slammed down the embankment, car coming to a jolting halt against the thick trunk of a tree.

It all happened in a matter of seconds.

Dust filled the car from the airbags, making it hard to see through the haze and even harder to breath. Adrenaline surged through him, leaving him struggling to hear over the pounding of his own heartbeat. He gasped, trying to suck air into his lungs against the suffocating pressure on his chest. His seatbelt held him immobile, the nylon strap digging tight enough to bruise the skin beneath his suit. _Shepard!_ His head jerked to one side and a curse fell from his lips at the bolt of pain that shot through his neck.

Red hair hung down around Shepard’s face as she slumped forward against the constricting restraint of her seatbelt. Kaidan’s hands grappled with the release for his own belt until it clicked open. Free, he reached for her, hoping to find a pulse. She coughed and jerked away from his hand, green eyes blazing with fury as she glared over at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not put off enough by her anger to stay silent.

“Fine,” she snapped back. Her lips stretched tight against her teeth with a pained hiss as she struggled to unclasp her seatbelt. “Can you…get that?”

Luckily, the crash hadn’t damaged their doors and both were able to climb free. Smoke hissed and billowed from under the hood, the grey tendrils lit by the headlight beams as they wafted away in the wind. Shepard slammed her door closed. Startled by the noise, the field of crickets fell to silence momentarily before resuming the rhythmic cadence of their song.

A cry of pain reached Kaidan’s ears before Shepard could snap her mouth closed. “What’s wrong?” He asked, hurrying around the vehicle to her. His eyes scanned over her, making sure not to linger as he searched for injuries.

“Are you always so motherly?” The snarl on her face halted him in his tracks and the hands that had been reaching for her dropped back to his side.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning back to her wrecked car.

Crumpled metal pressed against the thick trunk of the tree, the hood folding back towards the windshield like an accordion. Had Shepard not managed to slow the car somewhat, the two of them wouldn’t have been nearly so lucky. On a hunch, he knelt next to the front wheel. It didn’t take long for his fingers to find the punctured hose.

“Shepard,” Kaidan called to her, waving her over. She dropped to a squat beside him, scowl still etched in her face. He pointed at the punctured brake line. “Is this enough to convince you that _none_ of this is a coincidence?”

Green eyes narrowed and her mouth dropped in an O as she surveyed the evidence of sabotage.

Then she surged to her feet with the longest swear Kaidan had heard yet. “ _Hostie de tabarnac de crisse de calice!_ ” After a swift kick to the tire, she began an agitated pace back and forth along the side of the road.

“Did you notice any issues with the brakes on the way out? Any of the three times you used them,” he added with a small smirk in an attempt to lighten the mood. Still, the mood could only be improved so much when you knew someone was out to kill you.

She shot a glare over her shoulder at him, but paused to consider the answer before responding. “No,” she finally said. “They seemed fine.”

His fingers massaged the back of his neck as he pondered the implications, working his way backwards through the timeline while Shepard resumed pacing. The brakes had been fine when they’d left the city. A theft had turned to murder, and _someone_ had ordered a hit on the lead detective using just enough information to make the threat seem legitimate. The entire scenario left a lot of questions to be answered, but one thing seemed certain.

“It must have been someone at the crime scene.”

She froze, pivoting on her heel to face him. “You’re saying that the killer was still hiding at the scene?”

“Maybe. Maybe they were in plain sight.”

“Why would…” As the meaning of his words caught up to her, she paused. “No. No way.”

Without letting him respond, she turned and fished her cell phone from the pocket of her jacket. They’d need a tow to get her car back to the city. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she growled into the phone, arguing with the poor bastard on the other end over the amount of time it’d take to get a truck to them. When she hung up, she raised her fist and made to throw the phone in the overgrown weeds. The phone slipped from her fingers as a strangled cry escaped between her lips. In a flash, Kaidan was by her side.

“Please, tell me where you’re hurt,” Kaidan pleaded with her. A part of him felt responsible—no matter how ridiculous the thought—for her current situation.

Eyes squeezed tightly closed against the pain, Shepard’s fingers clutched around her wrist, holding her arm immobile. “My shoulder,” she ground out from between clenched teeth. “I think it’s dislocated. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Kaidan moved closer to her, running his hand over her arm with a gentle touch. “Here. Try to touch your other shoulder.”

With a slow stretch, she tried, only to drop her arm back to her side with a cry before she’d reached halfway. He hissed between his teeth at the sight of her in pain. Based on the limited field medicine training he had, it was highly likely that her shoulder was indeed dislocated. They needed to get her to a hospital but, when he suggested this, she shook her head.

“No doctors. I hate ‘em.”

“You can’t just leave it like that.”

“Your grasp of the obvious is inspiring,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s happened a couple times before, I can fix it once I’m home.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Yourself?”

“Yes, myself,” she snapped at him.

“That’s a long time to wait in that much pain.” If she refused to go to the hospital, he wasn’t going to let her suffer the hour it would take for the tow truck to arrive and then however long it would take for her to get home. “At least let me help you.”

Her lips pressed together as she watched him for a second before consenting with a nod. Kaidan helped her shrug off her blazer and balled it up to put under her head. She shivered against the wind, but said nothing as she lowered her back to the ground. Once she was still, Kaidan clasped his hands around her wrist, bracing her body with one foot, and began to pull towards him. He took care to use firm, steady movements instead of jerking the bone back into place. Her face scrunched with the pain, but still she said nothing.

An audible sigh of relief filled the air as the ball of her arm returned to its socket with a pop.

Dusk had settled around them and, as Kaidan helped Shepard to her feet, stars winked into sight in the sky. Kaidan lifted the strands of red curls away from her neck and tied the jacket’s sleeves together to fashion a makeshift sling for her arm. Goosebumps prickled along her skin, her thin, navy blue shirt doing little to ward off the night air’s chill. Kaidan slid off his own jacket and draped it over her shoulders, ignoring her protests against his chivalry.

The two of them leaned against the side of the wrecked car in silence as they waited for the tow truck.

She sighed and tilted her head towards him. “I still can’t believe that someone from my team would want me dead.”

“I hope you’re right, Shepard.” Kaidan attempted to reassure her with a crooked smile but, even to him, it felt forced. The faith she had in her colleagues was inspiring and Kaidan found himself wondering what receiving that kind of loyalty would feel like. It made him _want_ to be wrong. “But we need to accept that someone out there wants you dead.”

Headlights—the first they had seen since the crash—spilled over them, heading towards the city, rather than away from it. The car slowed at the shoulder and the hum of a retracting automatic window filled the air. The dim glow from the dashboard lit the driver’s face just enough for Kaidan to recognize him.

“Garrus?” Shepard stepped towards his car, surprise coloring her voice.

“Shepard? What the hell happened?” A frown passed over the officer’s face as he looked past them to the crash.

As if following his gaze towards her ruined vehicle, Shepard turned. Instead, her eyes met Kaidan’s and a silent look of understanding passed between them.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” she said with a sheepish shrug.

“You don’t look too worse for wear,” he observed. “Get in, I’ll take you back.”

Kaidan and Shepard shared another look, before she opened the door and climbed into the front of Officer Vakarian’s cruiser. Kaidan slid in behind her, hoping that—out of all the people that could have offered them a ride—Garrus wasn’t the one behind this whole mess.


	4. Chapter 4

Mature trees lined the narrow boulevard, waving their golden leaves in the halos of the street lights as Garrus slowed to a stop outside a row of old, brick buildings. Shepard and Kaidan climbed from the vehicle and she bid Garrus goodnight as he pulled away from the curb with a wave, leaving the two of them alone. On the far side of the intersection, where homes gave way to restaurants and businesses, the evening air filled with the thrum of people winding down from a long day. Shepard paid them no mind and crunched through the fallen leaves to the stoop of a black door.

Sliding her key in the lock, Shepard ushered Kaidan through the door and up a flight of stairs to the top floor. Another lock, another key, and then they were inside a small apartment. She tossed her keys and the file she’d brought back from the crime scene onto a table by the entry and shrugged his jacket off, draping it over the back of her sofa before she disappeared around a corner. Kaidan shifted from one foot to the other, hesitant to make himself welcome in her home despite being invited in. He _had_ tried to kill her only earlier that day.

With brick walls and soothing neutral colors, the apartment was cozy but lacking in the way of personal touches. A small framed photograph sat on the mantle of the fireplace and an abandoned cup of coffee left rings on the wooden coffee table. Those, and a quietly bubbling fish tank to the side of the room, were the only indication someone actually lived here.

“Why are you still standing there?” Shepard asked, startling him as she appeared in the doorway. She extended her good arm, a dark brown bottle of beer offered towards him as she told him to take a seat.

“You don’t have any fish,” he blurted out as he lowered himself to one corner of her black leather sofa.

“What?” She followed his gaze to the small aquarium that gurgled in the corner. Color rose on her cheeks, obscuring the freckles over her nose. “Oh, right. They kept dying.”

It didn’t explain why the tank was still full of water, much less still _on_. Rather than give him a chance to press her, she spread the contents of the case files over the coffee table and gestured for him to have a look before turning to crouch at the hearth. While she balled up newspaper, he rifled through the files.

“Toss me those matches?” She shifted to look over her shoulder at him and pointed at the end table.

Matches in hand, she bent back to her task, arranging kindling while Kaidan tried (and mostly failed) to focus on the papers in front of him rather than the well toned curve of her ass.

She spoke up as the fire crackled and popped, her voice grounding him in the reality of the situation. “Last week, one of Aria’s employees discovered an empty barrel of syrup. After a complete inventory assessment it was determined that 9060 barrels had been emptied, or emptied and refilled with water. That was when we got called in.”

Kaidan whistled in disbelief. “9,000 barrels? How does someone steal _that_ much syrup undetected?”

“Fucking beats me.” Shepard shrugged without looking at him as she added a larger log to the growing flame.

“Any suspects?”

“One, initially.” Shepard stood, brushing her hands against her thighs as she disappeared into the back room, returning a moment later with another file. “Kasumi Goto. She’s a master thief. Her name has come up on a couple of high profile thefts, but she’s more a rumor than anything. No criminal record, no two people can even describe her the same.”

Shepard perched on the edge of the coffee table and handed the file to Kaidan. Leaning back, he rested one elbow along the back of the couch and flipped through its contents. A single grainy photo, taken from far away with three-quarters of the woman’s face turned away, and half a dozen circumstantial, third party mentions of her were all that the abysmally thin folder contained. He’d heard _of_ her—most operatives in CSIS had. A few years back, the department’s files had been hacked by an outside source and a suspect on trial for espionage had been released when all traces of his crime had simply vanished. Goto’s name had come up in whispered corners but, like Shepard said, the woman was a ghost and the case remained unsolved.

He spoke, musing out loud over possibilities. “Syrup doesn’t seem to fit her MO. If the rumors can be believed, she goes after rare, one of a kind items.” He ignored Shepard’s look of surprise and set both the file and his beer back on the table. The fire had chased off the chill in the room and it had warmed considerably since they’d arrived. As he continued speaking, he rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. “I guess she could have been in it for the challenge…What?”

He looked up to find Shepard still staring at him, one corner of her mouth quirked into a half smile. Her green eyes sparkled with something akin to admiration, as if for the first time seeing an operative rather than an annoying shadow. A flush of pride, and maybe a little bit of something else, crept up his face and Kaidan reclaimed his bottle, taking a swig from it in an attempt to hide red cheeks he hoped would be ascribed to the heat.

“Nothing.” She shook her head and gestured for him to continue.

The more he tugged, the less sense the case made. “What about Maya Brooks? None of the reports you have here indicate that Goto ever works with anyone. How would Maya fit into it?”

Shepard twirled a pen between her fingers, forehead creased as she considered his words. “Maybe someone hired her to steal the syrup and Maya was the go between contact? And someone killed her after to tie up loose ends?”

“Maybe. Still doesn’t explain how killing you would fit.” Kaidan reminded her. “There’s not enough here to even bring Goto in for questioning, much less arrest her. Why would she need you out of the way?”

Shepard tossed her pen to the table with a huff. “We’re missing _something_.”

“It wasn’t me, Shep. I swear.” A disembodied voice crackled around them, with no obvious source.

Kaidan and Shepard both shot to their feet, hands reaching for their guns. Back to back, Kaidan covered the front entrance while Shepard faced towards the door she’d disappeared into earlier, presumably the kitchen. When no one appeared, Shepard signaled to him that she wanted to clear the small living space. The two of them worked their way through the apartment; living room, kitchen, bathroom, and single bedroom. No one was there; not hiding in the closet, not under the bed, or behind the plastic shower liner. A fire escape in the bedroom led out to the roof, but the window was still locked from the inside.

“You’ll never find me,” the voice spoke again. “But the hottie is right; what would I ever want with that much syrup?”

“Kasumi?” Shepard’s mouth dropped. “Wait, hottie?”

Kaidan’s eyes snapped to Shepard’s. Kasumi must be able to see them or she’d tailed them at some point that day. Either way, this was more than a simple audio bug in Shepard’s apartment.

“If it wasn’t you, why are you spying on me?”

Kasumi’s chuckle rang around the small room. “I’m not the best thief in the business by chance. I keep tabs on things,” she added with a vague air of amusement.

Kaidan narrowed his eyes. “Why go through all that trouble just to give yourself away now?”

“Can’t have Shep thinking it’s me. And it certainly won’t hurt to have her owe me a favor. Shep, check your email.”

Eyes narrowed and darting to corners as if the thief would appear out of thin air, Shepard made her way back to the kitchen table. Kaidan stepped behind her, hands closing around the wooden back of the chair as she flipped open the lid of her laptop. Sure enough, a new message waited in what looked to be her personal inbox (judging by the address: thessiansunfish54@gmail.com) bearing the subject line ‘Listen’. A single attachment appeared at the bottom with no accompanying text. Shepard glanced over her shoulder at him, then clicked on the file.

There was no video, only hushed whispers just loud enough to make out over the ambient noises of the warehouse. One voice—a woman’s—Kaidan was sure he had never heard before. Even with the poor quality of the audio, he could hear the mocking disdain in her tone. The other’s whisper was deeper, a more masculine timbre carrying a barely restrained growl of frustration. Kaidan couldn’t be positive, but that second voice sounded vaguely familiar.

_I thought you had this under control._

_I did. I do! Trust me, Maya._

“Any idea who the guy is?” Kaidan asked, reaching over Shepard to pause the audio.

Shepard’s brows furrowed as she glared at him. “How am I supposed to know?” she asked, resuming the audio with a click. The first voice picked back up where the second had left off.

_I told him he should have trusted me with this, not you._

_You_ _’re loving this, aren’t you? Throwing me under the bus to make yourself look good? Don’t forget, it’s_ your _fingerprints all over this case. Not mine._

_Even he didn_ _’t think you could do it. He laughed. Told me not to worry, that he had a contingency plan in place. How does it feel to be that much of a failure?_

A gasping noise and a soft thud filled the stretch of silence before the man spoke again.

_Better than dead._

Kaidan knew that voice. He knew he knew it. He just didn’t know from where. Before he had more samples to guess from, the audio cut out and started over, endlessly looping those thirty seconds.

“So Leng was right; Maya _did_ know the person who killed her.” Shepard’s lip curled with distaste, as if admitting it made her nauseous. She closed the file, silencing what was likely the last few seconds of Maya’s life, and rocked back in her chair with a sigh. “This still leaves me with a lot more questions than answers, though.”

Kaidan hummed in agreement, ignoring how the silky strands of her hair brushed against his knuckles.

“One thing is for certain,” Shepard continued, “neither of those voices are Kasumi’s.”

“Told you,” Kasumi’s voice joined them once again, this time accompanied by the muffled sounds of pedestrians and hum of tires on asphalt. “So what do you say, Shep? Favor owed, to be collected by yours truly?”

Kaidan winced as the phone’s speakers amplified a brief squeak. Shepard jerked her gaze to Kaidan’s, eyes wide. He shrugged, not understanding her alarm. She kept talking to Kasumi, asking about the nature of the favor while she scratched furiously across a notepad with her pen. One word written in bold, all caps was scrawled over the page when she held it up and pointed to the back of the apartment. ‘ _BEDROOM!!!_ ’

Taking care to step quietly across the wood floors, Kaidan crept toward her bedroom with his gun in hand. Pressed back against the wall, he took a breath and then, gun leading the way, spun into the room. A small figure, face obscured by the hood of her sweatshirt, perched on the metal fire escape outside.

“Freeze! Hands in the air!”

White teeth flashed with a cheeky smile as the woman saluted him with two fingers and dropped out of sight over the railing. Kaidan lunged across the room and pushed the now unlocked window open, but the woman was already gone. With one leg already out the window to give chase, a hand clapped on his shoulder. Without thinking, he jerked, ramming his elbow into soft flesh.

A French-laced swear reached his ears. He looked up to find Shepard massaging her sore shoulder.

“Shit, Shepard! I’m sorry. I thought I had her and then she—”

Shepard held up a hand to stop him. “Forget about it. It’s not the first time she’s slipped away from me.” He couldn’t help but notice that her voice carried a hint of admiration for the thief.

“C’mon,” he said, pulling himself from the window. “Let’s get you some ice for that.”

She grinned. “I’ve got something better.”

Back in the kitchen, she pulled two more beers from the refrigerator, popping the tops with the bottle opener fridge magnet before handing him one and reaching into a cabinet. Pills rattled in an orange, plastic bottle as she tipped out a few and tossed them back, washing them down with a pull from the neck of her bottle.

“Diazepam? With alcohol?” Kaidan asked, reading the label. “Is that the best idea?”

“I’m a big girl, Alenko. It hasn’t killed me yet.” She rolled her eyes, but one corner of her lip tugged up in amusement over his concern.

Beer in hand, Shepard stepped around him, the layout of the small kitchen forcing her to brush against his arm as she slid past, and went back to the living room. She flopped onto the couch, motioning for Kaidan to join her. When he sat, his weight dipped the cushion beneath him, tipping her into his frame. The scent of vanilla filled his nostrils. She righted herself but otherwise paid no mind to their close proximity. Leaning back over the files, she sorted through the pages at random, hunting for clues. Without looking up, she passed a handful to him and they settled into a quiet rhythm broken only by the occasional shuffling of paper and the piqued hums of interest as they scrutinized every scrap of detail.

Kaidan was scouring over shipping logs that Aria had provided when soft, deep breaths ghosted along the side of his neck. Shepard had slumped back against the couch, long lashes feathered over her cheeks as she dozed beside him, one of the documents still clutched in her hand. Kaidan shifted, trying not to disturb her. Instead, his movement jostled her and she tilted into him, nestling perfectly beneath his shoulder.

She looked much friendlier without her ever present scowl.

Careful of her shoulder, Kaidan eased her off of him and back to the couch. Straightening the papers, he tidied them into a neat stack on the table before turning to leave. The fire had died down as they worked and the chill was returning so Kaidan pulled his jacket from the couch and draped it over her. A click of the end table lamp plunged the room into darkness save for the dim, orange glow still cast by the dying embers.

A few feet from the door, he stubbed his toe against the leg of the armchair and cursed. Shepard jerked upright, green eyes staring at him in bleary confusion.

Kaidan gave her a sheepish smile. “I, um, tripped. Sorry.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, dragging her fingers through her hair as she swallowed a yawn.

“Well, I, uh, figured since you fell asleep, I should…probably go?”

Shepard scooted back to a sitting position, his jacket puddling in her lap, and stared at him with pursed lips. “Are you planning on sitting across the street and watching my door all night?”

Kaidan massaged the back of his neck, stuttering through a piss poor denial. He was a spy for God’s sake. He needed to start acting like one.

“Just stay,” Shepard snorted and rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to be my watchdog all night anyway, you might as well not be stuck out in the cold.”

He paused, then nodded his acquiescence.

She yawned again, this time unable to catch it, and excused herself to go to bed. He settled on the couch and pulled the files back into his lap. If he was going to stay up all night to make sure she’d be alright, he could at least make himself useful. A cry rose from the bedroom only a few minutes later. In a flash he was on his feet, papers scattering across the floor in his rush. Wrenching open the knob, he burst through the door. And froze.

Shepard stood next to the bed, half undressed. She’d managed to get her shirt halfway over her head before the pain from her shoulder had stopped her in the process. It looked like the muscle relaxer (with help of the alcohol) had worked enough to mask the injury until she’d tried to use her arm normally and she was now stuck.

“I…” He swallowed thickly, eyes darting away from the expanse of skin and satiny, black fabric of her bra. “Do you need some help?”

She tugged, trying to pull free with a whimper. “Please?”

With three long strides, he came to a stop beside her. Hooking his fingers beneath the fabric and taking care to not brush against her bared skin, Kaidan tugged with gentle movements and tried to ignore each hiss of pain as he worked the shirt over her bad arm. Once he’d freed her, Shepard met his gaze, eyes blazing with challenge as though she was daring him to look. Forgotten, the shirt dangled from his fingertips.

Her eyes dropped to his lips when he refused to take the bait and she took a step forward, near enough that the fabric of her bra brushed against his chest. Goosebumps rose along his arms and Kaidan’s breath caught in his lungs.

Both of them jumped as the room filled with a loud buzzing sound.

“You gonna help me get a shirt back on, or are you too busy enjoying the view?” Shepard smirked at him before crossing the room to grab her cell phone. She barked her name into the phone, pulling a flannel button up shirt from one of the drawers and tossing it at him with her good arm. One by one, he slid the sleeves up Shepard’s arms as she grunted into the phone, listening to the person on the other end while rolling her eyes at Kaidan and making a ‘blah, blah’ mocking motion with her free hand. He’d just finished with the last of the buttons when she hung up.

“Leng is on his way up.” She stuck out her arms at Kaidan. “Mind rolling up the sleeves?”

Her palms braced flat against the planes of his chest, the heat of her searing him through the cotton of his shirt. He ignored it, rolling the cuffs of the black and blue plaid up to rest just under her elbows, same as he’d done to his own shirt earlier in the evening. 

“There you go,” he said, patting her shoulders, then biting back a grimace at his awkwardness. _Real smooth, Alenko._ He wasn’t even sure why it mattered. Her boyfriend was on the way.

As if herself remembering Leng, Shepard stepped back to put a more comfortable distance between the two of them. “You mind waiting in here? I really don’t want to explain why a ‘rookie’ is at my place in the middle of the night.”

On cue, the doorbell rang. Shepard’s fist covered a yawn, reminding Kaidan how exhausted she’d been. She threaded her fingers through her hair and sighed before speaking again. “Hopefully this won’t take long. Leng insisted, said it’s something urgent about the case. Just…make yourself comfortable, okay?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and headed towards the living room, clicking the door shut behind her. Kaidan looked around the small room; there was little furniture, only her dresser, a small nightstand, and the bed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited, standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed. Thanks to the thin walls, he had little trouble hearing the conversation six meters away or picking up on Shepard’s frustration with Leng’s short notice arrival.

And then he heard four words that made his blood run cold.

“C’mon, Janie. Trust me.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was him. Leng was the second voice in the audio file. He was willing to bet that not only had Leng cut her brakes, but that the illusive ‘he’ referenced in the audio file was Leng’s handler and somehow responsible for Kaidan’s original orders to eliminate Shepard.

A dawning realization settled in the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone. Shepard was completely unarmed. She’d been in the middle of undressing when Leng had called and she hadn’t grabbed her gun when she left. Why would she? As far as she knew, Leng was her boyfriend as well as a fellow cop.

On top of all that, Shepard was exhausted, high on pain meds, and injured. Even if she did realize that Leng was the murderer, would she be able to hold him off?

As Kaidan groped at his waist, reaching for his sidearm, her irritated voice filtered through the door. “It’s late, Leng. I’ve had a long fucking day and need a beer. If you’re gonna insist we go over the case right this very goddamn instance, you might as well have one with me.”

Kaidan’s teeth clenched at her offer. Did the damn woman seriously have to offer _everyone_ beer? Balancing on the balls of his feet, he moved to the bedroom door and wrapped one hand around the knob. He eased the door open, cracking it just enough to see Leng walking through the door to the kitchen, no doubt following Shepard. As the man disappeared from sight, Kaidan fit through the gap and crept after them.

Leng spoke up as Kaidan rounded the sofa, taking care not to stub his toe again. The man’s pouting words held a hint of anger.

“We could have been such good partners, Janie.”

Kaidan pressed his back against the wall and slid the final remaining meter to the open arch, peering around it. He blinked in disbelief at the scene unfolding in front of him. Shepard must have realized the same thing as Kaidan. And she must have been more alert than he’d given her credit for; the beer had been a ruse to get to the kitchen. She stood by the oven, its door still hanging open, a pistol in hand pointed directly at Leng’s face. His back to Kaidan, Leng’s own police issue weapon was raised at Shepard, the two in a stand off.

“What the hell’s going on, Leng?” Shepard snapped. Her hardened stare was locked on Leng and she took no notice of Kaidan’s silhouette in the doorway.

“I tried to protect you! I didn’t want it to come to this, but my orders were clear,” the crooked cop insisted. “None of this would have happened if you’d just let me handle it.”

“So that’s why you wanted this case?”

Leng nodded in earnest, his bun flopping. “From the start. But Anderson gave it to you, just because you asked. You’ve always been his favorite.” Kaidan could hear the snarl on Leng’s face, even if he couldn’t see it.

“And Brooks?” Shepard asked.

“Idiot,” Leng said with a scoff. “She couldn’t just let me take care of things. She was always stubborn. Like you.”

Shepard’s face twisted in disgust. “Drop it, Leng. It’s over.”

A moment passed before Leng thumbed the release on the side of the pistol, its magazine clattering to the floor as he let the gun flip over on his thumb. With his arm outstretched to pass Shepard his weapon, Leng took a step towards her but, as he did, his left arm inched back towards his waist.

A wave of unease washed over Kaidan.

Inching through the open door, Kaidan tried to get closer to Leng before he reached Shepard. The movement must have startled her. Widening eyes stared at him over Leng’s shoulder, in turn alerting Leng to the presence of someone behind him. Time stopped for a single second, then sped up with a dizzying pace.

_Crack!_

Deafening in close quarters, Kaidan’s ears rang with the shot of a gun followed by a searing pain that burned up his side. Someone screamed. Maybe him. His pistol fell from his hands and he clutched the wet spot on his ribs. His knees crumpled and cracked against the tile, a puddle of red widening around him. When he pulled his hands away, he was surprised to see them covered in blood. Icy nausea constricted his gut at the sight and the white tile of the floor raced up to meet him seconds before his vision went black.

When Kaidan came to, he flinched against the harsh, bright light of halogen bulbs above him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused the rest of his senses on his surroundings. A steady beeping came from his left and the sharp medicinal smell of antiseptic assaulted his nostrils. _A hospital, then_. Slowly this time, he opened his eyes, using his lashes as a barrier against the harsh, bright light.

“Agent Alenko?” The gravely voice of his superior filled Kaidan’s ears. He turned his head and was met with the blue stare of Director Hackett himself. The man’s age-lined face appeared even more weathered than usual with worry. “I have to say, this might be a first.”

“Sir?” The words came out hoarse, scratching through his dry throat and Kaidan coughed.

Hackett handed him a plastic cup of ice chips as he spoke. “It’s a remarkably rare circumstance that an agent ends up in the hospital because he was _protecting_ the target he’d been sent to eliminate.”

“It was a set-up, sir. She was—”

“I’m aware,” Hackett cut him off, his bushy grey eyebrows drawn in displeasure. “Shepard briefed me on the situation.”

“She’s okay?” Kaidan couldn’t keep the joy from his voice, despite knowing how unprofessional it sounded.

“You idiot.” A snort came from the far side of the room. Kaidan’s eyes jerked towards the source and the beep of his heart monitor stuttered at the sight of the smirking redhead leaning against the door frame.

Hackett cleared his throat. “I’ll give you two a minute.”

The man rose from his chair and crossed the room, sharing a nod with Shepard as he passed her in the door. Once he was gone, Shepard turned back to Kaidan.

“What did I tell you, Alenko? I’m not a damsel in distress, remember?”

Teeth gritting against the pain, Kaidan struggled to push himself to a fully seated position. Shepard crossed the room to his bed, boots clicking across the linoleum, and pushed a hand against his shoulder to keep him still. The leather of her jacket creaked as she reached for something and then a whizzing noise joined the monitor’s steady beeping as the back of his hospital bed rose to prop him up.

She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back on one heel, frowning down at him. “Do you always make things harder than they have to be?”

“Only when a pretty girl is involved.” The words slipped out and he grinned up at her, hoping to hear her laugh.

She groaned instead, her head shaking as she rolled her eyes, and dropped into the chair Hackett had vacated. “I think they need to cut back on your morphine drip.”

It was only as she scrubbed her hand over her face with a tired sigh that Kaidan noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the sag of her shoulders. He was reminded of how, even drowsy and injured, she’d pieced together the clues and held Leng at gunpoint. She was a woman who hid her weariness and feelings beneath sarcasm and quips. Something was wrong.

“What happened?” He reached for her, resting his hand lightly over hers.

Her eyes flashed up and she stiffened under his touch, but otherwise she didn’t move. “What do you remember?”

“Leng showing up. You two were arguing, he had a gun. But you knew. You had him.”

“Of course I had him,” she snapped, angry. She rocked away, yanking her hand out from under his and crossing her arms back over her chest. “I’m a damn good cop, believe it or not.”

He frowned, trying to recall the events that ended up with him in the hospital. “And then—”

“And then he stabbed you.” Her jaw clenched and her eyes dropped to her lap.

_That explained the hospital then._

“What about Leng?” he asked, trying to coax her out of silence.

She brightened a bit. “I shot him and damn, it felt good. He’s in custody. Clammed up, but we’ve got enough for a warrant to pull his financials and phone records. Shouldn’t take long to find out who’s pulling the strings.”

“Sounds like it turned out okay. You got your guy,” Kaidan said, relief spreading through him. She scowled and picked at a cuticle on one of her nails rather than answer. “Shepard! Talk to me.”

She swallowed, continuing to focus on her lap. When she finally tilted her head to look at him, Kaidan was surprised by the depth of emotion in her eyes.

“You almost died.”

“I didn’t though.”

“But you almost _did_. It happened so fast.” She cleared her throat in an attempt to compose the waver in her voice. “By the time I got Leng subdued and cuffed, you were bleeding out on my kitchen floor. I called an ambulance and did what I could, but you were turning blue. When the paramedics arrived, they got you on a ventilator and rushed you away.

“I left as soon as Leng was processed but, when I got here, you were already in surgery. You’d lost a lot of blood, had a collapsed lung, and went into respiratory arrest. And they only told me that because of my badge. Then Hackett arrived. I had to spend hours in a room with him, recounting every fucking detail.” She glared up at Kaidan. “He’s a fun one.”

He shrugged in agreement, well aware of Hackett’s no nonsense attitude. A smile split his lips as he recalled another detail from the evening. “Can we talk about the fact that you keep a gun in your oven?”

“So?”

Maybe it was the morphine, but her sincere shrug nearly sent him into a fit of laughter. He pressed his lips together and swallowed before continuing with a straight face.

“A gun. In your oven.”

“It’s not like I cook in it. Besides, where else would I keep a spare?”

The seriousness of the question broke what little resolve he’d had. Unable to keep it in any longer, Kaidan rocked with laughter, wincing as his stitches pulled taut with the motion.

“Fine, laugh,” she snapped. “I suppose getting stabbed was funny too?”

His brain helpfully supplied him with imagery of a role reversal, her dying on his kitchen floor, and suddenly it wasn’t funny at all.

Reaching for her again, he squeezed her knee. “Shepard, I’m fine.” She refused to look at him and the muscle in her jaw spasmed from being clenched so tight. His mouth curved in a smirk. “If you’re that worried, you could always kiss it and make it better.”

That finally made her laugh. “Ha! I think you owe _me_ a kiss for saving the day.”

“Deal.”

* * *

 

Beams of light fell across Kaidan’s bare torso, warming him as he dozed in the afternoon sun. The English Bay sparkled in the distance, visible through the balcony’s glass doors. Beside him, Shepard traced the healed scar on his ribs, fingers dancing over the puckered white flesh.

Emily Wong, a news anchor for CTV Vancouver, droned in the background. “Donnel Udina has been removed from the office of Prime Minister after Thursday’s motion of no confidence passed in a shocking unanimous vote. A criminal trial is to follow. Udina has been charged with gross misconduct to include tampering with government documents, aiding in last year’s theft of sixteen million dollars worth of maple syrup from the FPAQ, and conspiracy to commit murder. The manhunt for Jack Harper, accused mastermind behind the heist, is still underway.”

“Glad I never voted for Udina,” Shepard smirked as she clicked the remote at the TV to shut it off.

Kaidan hummed in agreement. “No more political talk,” he added, rolling and trapping her beneath him as he captured her lips in a kiss.

Her phone vibrated on the nightstand and she shoved him to the side, putting one finger to his lips as she answered it.

Sitting as close as he was, Kaidan could make out the tinny words of the person on the other line. “Hiya, Shep!”

“Kasumi?” Shepard fumbled with the phone to put it on speaker.

“Remember that favor you owe me?”

Shepard tossed the phone on the bed and stood, sliding her arms through the sleeves of Kaidan’s shirt. “I don’t believe we ever actually agreed to that.”

“Now that’s not fair. A deal’s a deal,” Kasumi pouted. “Someone took something that means a great deal to me and I plan on getting it back. Oh, and bring the hottie. We might be able to use some eye candy to our advantage. It’ll be fun. See you soon, Shep.” The call dropped with a beep.

Standing at the side of the bed with an arched brow, clad in nothing but his partially buttoned shirt that hung to her thighs, Kaidan had no doubts that he’d follow Shepard wherever she led him. He propped himself up on his elbows and smiled.

“When do we leave?”


End file.
